


Revenge is One Hot Dish

by SunshineAndSnark (GoodApollo27)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Dirty Thoughts, Explicit Sexual Content, Faking an orgasm, Friendship, Guilt, I'm Mean to Iggy, Ignis Scientia/Prompto Argentum - Freeform, Inappropriate Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, My First Smut, Noctis is a jerk, Pranks, Prompto has a Little too Much Fun, Secret Crush, Self-Hatred, Swearing, poor ignis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 19:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12564944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodApollo27/pseuds/SunshineAndSnark
Summary: As a prank intended to embarass Ignis, Noctis bribes Prompto into faking an orgasm over the Advisor's cooking. However, Prompto's performance produces some unexpected reactions.





	Revenge is One Hot Dish

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Prompto's 'Foodgasm'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12481348) by [PinkGem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGem/pseuds/PinkGem). 



> So, yeah... My first smut... Boy, am I nervous. And a little ashamed? But no turning back, now. Guess all that I can do is own it and admit that I really enjoyed writing this. XD I blame PinkGem for their fabulous story, "Prompto's Foodgasm", which inspired me to write this one after filling my mind with lovely little mental images and what-ifs. Go and give it a read. And a big thanks to the author for giving me the permission to write this, in the first place. PinkGem, this one is for you. ...I'm sorry.

Chapter 1

“Hey, you can have some, if you want.” Noctis scooted his lunch across the table toward Prompto. It was just some seasoned rice, homemade chickatrice meatballs, and an assortment of fresh vegetables. The usual packed lunch from Ignis.

“Hmm? What?” Prompto jerked his head up, wide blue eyes flashing under the flourescent lighting of the school cafeteria. 

“Here,” Noctis sighed, pushing his lunch even closer. Prompto had been staring at it for a full minute, his own soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich sitting neglected next to a crinkled paper bag. Maybe his friend would do him a favor and take the disgusting veggies. Noctis glared at the assortment as if they'd personally offended him. But they had, once he thought it over.

Just a few nights ago, his father came over to the apartment for dinner and a visit. Even though preparations were going smoothly, something was up with Ignis. Noctis could see it in the taut set of his shoulders, in his jerking motions. Tension practically radiated from the young man. Noctis tried his best to just stay out of Ignis’ way while the man worked. Watching Ignis from the living room, he chalked it up to his father, the King, being over. That kind of stuff always put Ignis on edge, even though his father preferred to keep these kinds of visits casual.

When dinner was finally served, Noctis began to half heartedly poke at his vegetables with an exaggerated grimace. That's when Ignis snapped at him. 

“ _ If you feel you must complain like a pouting child, then perhaps you should take the initiative to prepare your own meals, for a change.” _

Right in front of his dad. Ignis could have chewed him out later, if it really bothered him that much. He could have worded it as a lighthearted teasing. The guy had just the dry sense of humor for the job. But he’d chosen to be a blunt asshole, instead.

Even worse: Ignis didn’t even apologize after Noctis’ father left. Ignis  _ always _ apologized after a fight. Not this one, though. So the incident stuck in Noctis’ mind like a tiny splinter; easy to ignore if he wanted, but still  _ there _ . Ignis’ words, that harsh tone, they still hurt after the fact.

Prompto finally responded, tearing his eyes away from Noctis’s lunch. The sound of his cheerful voice broke the Prince from his gloomy thoughts. One of the many perks of hanging out with Prompto.

“Nah, it's fine, Noct! You really don't have to. I have this,” Prompto jerked a thumb toward his sandwich. Even the plastic wrap looked limp and tired. His friend flashed a toothy grin, like he was totally psyched to eat that sad excuse for a lunch.

“Yeah. That sure looks great,” Noctis glanced sideways at the sandwich, crinkling his nose. “But really, just take some of mine. Ignis always makes too much, anyway.”

Prompto eyed the rice and meatballs, again, not even bothering with hiding his longing anymore. “Well, if you insist, guess I can't refuse, right?”

“Yeah, you sure as hell can’t. Cause it's an  _ order _ ,” Noctis stated, giving his best imperious stare. “I'm tired of watching you drool.”

Prompto let out an indignant gasp. “I am  _ not _ drooling!” He grabbed his sandwich and chucked it at Noctis with a pout.

The Prince chuckled, taking a bite of his lunch while Prompto left to retrieve a fork. After he sat back down, he reached over and snatched a chunk of meatball. Noctis couldn't help but watch as Prompto popped it into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as a warm hum vibrated in his chest. The Prince tilted his head, eyebrow quirking. Ignis made good food, but it wasn’t  _ that _ big of a deal. Maybe because he tasted Ignis’ cooking all the time? Though Prompto did have a tendency to go overboard on his reactions, so maybe this was just another case...

Prompto took a second bite, this one a little bigger. He chewed slowly. Then, he moaned, long and loud like they weren't in a cafeteria surrounded by dozens of other students. His shoulders even quivered with little shudders.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Noctis sighed, feeling his cheeks flush. He reached out to slide his lunch away from the blissed out blonde.  _ Way to make it all awkward _ , thought Noctis. Maybe he should think twice about sharing with his easily excitable friend. “You’re not getting any more if you’re just gonna’ make sex noises the whole time.”

Prompto choked, fumbling for his bottle of water. When he could breathe again, he levelled a glare at the Prince.

“T- those were  _ not _ sex noises! I just… I really like Iggy’s cooking! Those were compliments.”

“You should tell Ignis, then,” Noctis laughed, stirring his rice. “He’d  _ love _ to hear you sighing and moaning about his food.”

Prompto giggled, probably imagining the stunned look on Ignis’ usually severe face.

“Pretty sure he’d die of embarrassment. Poor guy just can’t handle sex stuff. Not without getting all weird.” Prompto reached over for a forkful of perfectly cooked rice, holding back his noises of appreciation, this time. 

_ Not that you’re any better, _ Noctis wanted to tease. He spared Prompto the jab, though. Might as well let the poor guy enjoy his shared lunch, since he was being so kind as to curb his enthusiasm.

As they both ate, an idea began to form: maybe Ignis  _ deserved _ a little humiliation. Especially after that incident with his father. And what better way to get his prudish Advisor red in the face than forcing him to witness an orgasm triggered by his own cooking? Ignis secretly adored compliments, but how would he react to one like this? Yeah, it was a little immature. But it was harmless. It was hilarious. It was perfect. Besides, as much as he loved his Advisor, the man really needed to lighten up.

Noctis shot a sly glance at Prompto, peeking out from under the shadows of dark lashes as he kept his head tilted down toward his lunch.

“Bet you wouldn’t be able to do it without laughing.”

The blonde’s eyes immediately flicked to his own, narrowing.

“Really? I bet I could pull it off. Have a little faith, Noct,” Prompto challenged, grin sparking. 

Noctis smiled. There. Like a fish taking the bait. Time to set the hook.

“Thirty gil says you lose it,” the Prince stated. “Hell, I’ll even throw in another twenty if you do a good job. Like, good enough to actually convince Ignis.” He extended his hand, waiting for Prompto’s inevitable agreement.

The blonde grasped his chin, gazing upwards as he made a show of considering. As if he were actually going to refuse. “Deal!” he finally exclaimed, slapping his hand against Noctis’. Now all that remained was discussing the matter of ‘when’.

“We’re having Gladio over for dinner next week. Iggy wants to try out one his  _ new reci- _ pehs.”

Prompto snickered at Noctis’ impression. “Dude, don’t make fun of his accent. He can’t help it,” the blonde scolded, as if he weren’t laughing, too. 

“Whatever,” Noctis dismissed, returning to outlining the plan. That accent was hilarious, and they both knew it. “I’m sure Ignis won’t mind if you come along. It’ll be the perfect time for your little show.” And there wouldn’t be much of an audience. Not like at some formal event. No, he wouldn’t be  _ that _ mean. It’d just be him, Prom, and Gladio, and the Shield would probably find the whole thing hysterical. Which would probably rile Ignis up even more. 

“Sounds good to me,” Prompto nodded, snatching up a celery stick. He leaned back in his chair, humming cheerfully as he nibbled. As if he and his best friend hadn’t just discussed an outrageous, incredibly embarrassing prank. Sometimes, Noctis didn’t know how in Ifrit’s Flames his usually shy friend could turn around and pull stunts like this. Hopefully, Prom wouldn’t chicken out at the last minute.

“You'll seriously do it? Like, all out and everything?” Noctis eyed his friend with disbelief. 

Prompto smirked, throwing Noctis a wink. “Oh, Noct. It would be my  _ pleasure _ .”

“Ugh… I think I’m gonna’ lose my appetite…”

 

A week later, Noctis opened the door to his apartment, inviting Prompto inside with a sly grin. His blonde accomplice gave a quick nod in return, mischief twinkling in his bright eyes. Noctis let a grin creep over his face as they walked into the living room. Looked like the plan was still in effect.

“Greetings, Prompto,” Ignis called from the kitchen, checking their dinner with a thermometer as it roasted in the oven. He gave a hum of satisfaction as he read the temperature. “If you take a seat, dinner will be finished in but a moment.” The tell-tale scent of slowly cooked meat permeated every corner of the apartment, sweetening Ignis’ promise.

Gladio already sat at the table, having arrived a while ago. He gave a nod of greetings to Prompto as he and Noctis walked past.

“Don't sweat it, Iggy,” Prompto chirped, slouching against one of the wooden kitchen chairs. “Want help with anything?” 

Noctis looked from Prompto to Ignis. Like his picky Advisor would ever allow anyone to assist. As much as Ignis complained about not getting any help around the place, he always acted stingy about accepting it in the kitchen. As for Prompto, Noctis wondered if the blonde felt bad for the trick he was going to pull. He hoped not. Ignis deserved this. He definitely deserved this.

The Prince allowed himself another small grin, dark blue eyes flicking to his Advisor. Tonight, Noctis would be serving Ignis, for a change. The dish was sweet revenge, hot and steamy. He still couldn't believe how readily Prompto agreed to do this.

“Not necessary, thank you. It's no trouble at all,” Ignis replied, stuffing his hands into twin pot holders to grab their meal from the oven. 

“Big surprise, there,” Gladio rumbled, echoing Noctis’ own thoughts.

Noctis sat down next to Prompto at the table, biting his lip to keep from smiling too much. Anticipation began to gnaw at his nerves. He wondered if he could film this.

“You ready for this, Noct?” Prompto whispered, eyes darting from Ignis to the Prince. 

“I've been ready all day, man. Been practicing in your room?”

Prompto glared at his friend, giving him a hard shove. “Dude. Shut it.”

Their whispered banter cut off when Ignis approached with four plates of roasted chicken. Steam wafted enticingly from the slices of roasted bird, speckled with various herbs and seasonings. Prompto stared at his plate like he'd never seen anything quite so beautiful, and Noctis wondered how much acting the guy would actually have to do. The poor kid said that most of his own dinners ended up overcooked, if not straight up burnt. And after those sounds at lunch last week, without even  _ trying _ ... This was going to be so good.

After serving everyone, Ignis sat in his chair with a proud grace that left Noctis wondering: which of them was royalty, again? Self-conscious, the Prince sat up a little straighter, cursing Ignis’ ability to make him feel guilty without even trying.  _ Definitely deserves it. _

“No need to hesitate,” Ignis commented, picking up his own knife and fork. “Please, enjoy. And do tell me what you think.” He sampled a chunk, assuming that analytical face that he always wore when he took the first bite of his own cooking. With a satisfied nod, Ignis began to pick at the garlic-roasted vegetables nestled next to his portion of chicken. Noctis choked down a gag and flicked his eyes to Gladio. The Shield took huge bites, but chewed carefully to enjoy the flavor. Definitely the fastest eater of the group. No surprises, there. 

Noctis took a bite of his own, nudging the offensive vegetables away from his precious protein. Out of reflex, he cut his eyes toward Ignis, waiting to be scolded, but the young man’s attention rested on his own plate. 

Noctis narrowed his eyes at the roasted carrots glistening right in front of him.  _ You started all of this,  _ his thoughts hissed.

Chewing slowly, he cast a glance at Prompto, earning a nod from the blonde. Prompto licked his lips. Whether from anticipation of his dinner, or from the excitement of pulling the outrageous prank, Noctis couldn’t tell. As Prompto cut a slice of chicken and lifted it to his lips with a tiny, secret grin, Gladio let out a gruff, joyful noise.

“Damn, Iggy! Leave it to you to take boring chicken and make it better than steak!” 

Ignis returned the compliment with a polite smile. Noctis knew that underneath, his Advisor glowed with a joy and pride that he never deemed appropriate to show. After years of living together, he knew Ignis well. That man loved when others loved his cooking. But how would he react when he saw how much Prompto  _ loved _ it?

“Glad to hear that you’re enjoying it. I took a risk by forgoing the usual seasonings and-”

The idle dinner conversation trailed off as a gasp shot through the room like gunfire, trailing a heavy silence in it’s wake. All eyes slid to Prompto, who swallowed hard, eyes wide and staring forward.

“Prompto? Is everything all right?” Ignis asked, brow furrowed. He set his fork down, ready to assist if required.

“Do I need to do the Heimlich?” Gladio asked, looking equal parts worried and eager.

Noctis patted his friend on the shoulder, showing his own concern, even when he knew full well what was really going on. Below the table, Prompto flashed him a quick thumbs up.

“Ha. Yeah. I-I’m fine, guys. Just… um… this is  _ really _ good.” Prompto’s voice rode out on a sigh, breathless and overwhelmed. He even brought a hand up to rest against his cheekbone as he put on a shy expression, eyes cast down and to the side. 

_ Oh, man… _ Noctis thought.  _ He’s gonna build this up. _ Some small part of him felt bad for Iggy, but that part was immediately crushed under the weight of so many hidden vegetables and stern lectures.

The others resumed eating, their movements wary, though, attentions drifting to their youngest guest. Prompto took another bite, a few slow chews. Then, a long, drawn out whimper. 

Green and amber eyes snapped back, and Noctis played along, watching as Prompto dropped his fork on the table with a heavy shudder. He hunched over, one hand disappearing to press against his abdomen as he began to quietly pant. His forehead almost rested against the table.

“Prompto? Are-”

A long moan, dragged deep from the bottom of Prompto’s lungs, cut through Ignis’ question. Gladio stood up, worry clear on his scarred face, but before he could move, Prompto moaned again. His voice cracked as he removed any suspicions that his noises arose from pain. The blonde’s face flashed scarlet as his shoulders heaved, panting harder. 

Embarrassment probably caused the blushing, but in Noct’s opinion, it just made Prompto look even more stirred up. Noctis stole a quick peek at his Advisor, but Ignis hadn’t seemed to catch on, yet. He stared at Prompto with his mouth slightly open, never having closed it from his interrupted question. He furrowed his brow, obviously trying to work through the issue and find a solution.  _ Good luck with this one, Iggy _ .

Prompto squeezed his eyes shut, flinging his head back as he howled out a third, aching moan. Noctis could see the exact moment that Ignis realized. The man jerked up ramrod straight in his seat, mouth snapping shut. Green eyes flashed wide behind his glasses. A rosy flush bloomed over his cheeks, spreading rapid across his whole face. Damn, he should have borrowed Prompto’s camera. That look was priceless.

Gladio let out a poorly muffled snort. With all the smutty romance novels the guy read, this stuff was probably nothing for him. Given that it was his best friend crying out in the grip of passion, though, the Shield couldn’t help but snicker with awkward amusement. Noctis didn’t really care about Gladio’s reaction, though. No, he only aimed to shake up Ignis. And boy, was Prompto succeeding at that.

The blonde’s whole body quaked in his seat as he shoved back from the table, gasps and moans rising in intensity. He gripped the edge of the table with both hands, arms shaking.  Prompto would probably wrap it up soon. Hell, his friend had done a great enough job, already. If he kept going, he was likely to finally laugh and lose the bet.

But Prompto wasn’t finished. Far from it. Instead of just groaning, he started to hiss out half-formed words, voice wavering just so.

“Ah- ahh… aaghhh. Aahhgods...”

He began to squirm, body writhing in his chair. 

Now, Noctis’ own eyes widened. If he harbored any doubts about Prompto watching porn, they were immediately erased. And replaced with suspicions that maybe Prompto  _ starred _ in porn. Because holy shit. Holy. Freaking. Shit.

“Damn, Iggy. Sure likes your cooking. The hell did you put in his?” Gladio asked, out of breath from laughing. He plopped back into his seat folding his arms as he sat back and watched whatever the hell was happening. 

Noctis failed to stifle a laugh of his own, but Ignis didn’t notice. The man’s horrified gaze remained stuck on Prompto. 

“I- I didn’t…” The poor guy couldn’t even finish his sentence, all of his beloved words failing him as his composure crumbled. Ignis looked ready to combust. Intense green eyes began to flicker with something other than embarrassment, something foreign and unknown. For a moment, Noctis feared it was rage. That… would be very bad for everyone. Ignis’ anger was something akin to the fury of a god. 

But it was too late, now.

And Prompto  _ still _ wasn't finished. 

One arm flung back over his shoulder, supported by the top of his chair, Prompto drew his heaving body into an arch.

“Ohh-hh… ‘S so good… ” Even his voice began to shudder. A hand strayed to rest near his hip bone, fingers gripping clumsily at his belt. He gave a slow, subtle roll of his hips. Then, he tilted his head back down, eyes peeking open to stare directly at Ignis. Gods, he even managed to get his gaze a bit unfocused.

With his own mouth hanging open, Noctis slowly turned his head to look at Ignis. His Advisor stared back, as if frozen. Something close to pain pulled at his face. Noctis saw him lean back in his chair, as if trying to put more distance between himself and Prompto. 

“Nn-nnghh! AhhIgnis! HellyeahIgnis!  _ More _ !”

Noctis nearly choked.  _ Holy shit, Prom! How the hell are you doing this!? _

Prompto’s eyelids fluttered closed. All movement stopped as his whole body tensed, all of his limbs locking up. The noises, so loud just a moment ago, died away in his throat.

The shriek of a chair against the floor cut through Prompto’s own keening exclamation. The heavy thud of stumbling footsteps interrupted his explosion of passioned cries. The blonde tilted his head, peeking open a single blue eye to see Ignis’ empty chair. Noctis was looking toward the set of stairs that led to their bedrooms, while Gladio gaped in mirthful disbelief.

“Aww… I didn’t get to finish…” Prompto pouted, standing up straight as he crossed his arms over his chest. All evidence of - whatever the hell that act had been - vanished, and Prompto was back to his goofy clumsy self. As if the last few minutes had never happened.  _ What the hell? What the actual freaking hell? _

Noctis finally burst out laughing, staggering over to Prompto to clap his friend on the shoulder.

“Sweet Ramuh, Prompto! That was too good!” Noctis howled, much to Prompto’s delight.

“Eh, I try my best,” he grinned, shrugging.

Gladio shook his head, still chuckling. “I don’t know if I should be disturbed or impressed, or if I should toss you ten gil for a good show.”

Prompto winked with way more confidence than he actually possessed. “Make it twenty and I'll do it again.”

Gladio let out a roar of laughter, swatting heavily at Prompto’s shoulder.

“So, was that embarrassing enough?” Prompto asked, looking toward Noctis for feedback.

“I think Iggy might have died,” Noctis deadpanned. He glanced over at the stairs. “Looks like he’s hiding in his room.”

Prompto frowned, biting his lip as the blush finally faded from his cheeks.

“Y-you don’t think he’s too upset, do you? I mean, we were only trying to embarrass him. I-I didn’t take it too far, did I?” Prompto bounced on his heels, looking from the stairs, to Noctis, to Gladio.

The Shield shrugged, nonchalant. “I dunno. He looked pretty pissed. Probably gonna’ murder you guys when he quits sulking up there.”

Prompto paled, letting out a tiny whimper.

“He’s not going to murder us, Prom.” Noctis rolled his eyes. “Besides, he deserved it. Guy needs to learn not to be so stuck-up all the time.”

Prompto hugged his arms around himself, still looking unsure. “I guess… “

“Just chill, Prom. I’ll give him some time to cool down, then I’ll go up and check on him,” Noctis reassured. “Heck, if he’s still upset, I might even apologize.”

Sufficiently mollified, Prompto relaxed back into his chair, taking a long sip of water. He listened as Noctis joked with Gladio, laughing and teasing about the prank.

 

* * *

 

Hidden safe in his room, Ignis clamped a hand hard over his mouth, trying to stifle the deep, passionate groans rumbling up from his chest.  _ Gods, don’t let them hear you! You can’t let them hear you! Quickly. Quietly. Just get it over with. _

But, oh, it was so hard not to just let himself cry out. To draw out the pleasure sparking through him for as long as he could. He wanted to savor it, even as his mind screamed to hurry up. That this was so, so wrong.

Images of what he’d just witnessed, of what he’d heard, ran through his thoughts in perfect detail. Prompto squirming in his seat. Prompto moaning. Arching his body until his tank top slipped upwards, exposing a pale ridge of glorious hipbone. Waiting for his hands, his lips, his teeth... 

His common sense, his sanity, his very mind, all fled from him, quickly lost among the heavy fog of lust rolling through his brain. His cursed imagination took it all and embellished it with impossible scenarios. And he loved it.

Ignis’ own body writhed against the heavy silken comforter of his bed, the black and gold material clinging to his sweaty skin. He felt his cheekbones flush hotter, distantly surprised that he had any blood to spare when it had all seemed to head south back in the kitchen. He muffled another whimper, wringing his own pleasure from his needy, traitorous flesh.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more if he hoped to finish this quickly. He risked uncovering his mouth. Fingers trailed lightly against that irresistibly sensitive area of his neck, right next to his throat.  _ Oh, yes… there, Prompto. Right there...  _ The sensation burned through him, pushing him closer to the edge. It was exquisite.

But still not done. Why was this taking so long? He'd felt ready to explode at the table, like he'd go off at the slightest touch. The heat of arousal had spilled through him like a burst dam, pooling warm and delicious below his belly as Prompto whimpered.

He'd cursed the snug fit of his perfectly tailored dress pants, for once envying Noctis’ relaxed loungewear. He'd cursed the tightness of Prompto’s own clothing, how it hugged against his skin, outlining every bone and muscle as he moved. And, of course, Ignis’ own detail-hungry eyes noticed every shift, every flex under that lovely freckled skin. The blush burning across those freckled cheeks, pink tones stark beneath foggy blue eyes.

What would it be like? To take Prompto right there on that damned chair?  _ Gods, yes. _ Ignis’ hand moved faster. His hips joined the endeavor.

To make the little blonde a groaning mess from his own efforts? For both of them to feel like this. He wanted him. To feel this good. He wanted it. It would be perfect. 

So perfect. 

So…

Every muscle locked, his world going white. Every sound, his vision…  _ everything _ . Gone. Only sweet, aching hot pleasure flooding through him like liquid fire. Stealing his world away and leaving him with nothing but bliss.

So perfect.

 

Fists clenched hard around his rumpled bedsheets. Ignis gasped heavily. Leftover euphoria clouded his senses for a mere moment, but burned out far too soon as he came back to himself. Common sense returned like a vulture slowly circling above a kill. Cold shame slithered through his belly, effortlessly extinguishing the warm buzz of brief satisfaction.  _ What have you done? _

He should get up. He should clean himself and go back down there before the others came up to check on him. He could only pray that they hadn't heard anything.

Ignis let out a heavy sigh, resting his arm over his sweaty brow.  _ Gods, why… _ He'd just wanted a nice dinner. Just the four of them unwinding after a long, trying week.  _ You've surely unwound, _ a voice in ignis’ head hissed.  _ Unwound right in the middle of having company over, with images of your Majesty’s best friend driving you on. Sick. _ Ignis flinched away from his own conscience, wounded. He glared down at his crotch. “Bastard,” he hissed. Not that he could shift the blame. But it felt good to try.

Yes, he should  _ really _ get up, now. But he didn't know if he could face Prompto. After what the blonde had done. After what Ignis had  _ imagined _ the blonde doing as he came undone silently in his room. That wiry body writhing, that voice catching in pure passion as his spine arched deliciously against the back of his chair.

Ignis groaned in frustration, slamming his arm onto the bed. Of all of the petty, immature little pranks… This one… this one had really gotten to him…hadn’t it?

The brief flare of anger fizzled back into shame. Because in the end, he had been unable to control himself. He was disgusting.

Ignis snatched his pillow, pressing it firmly over his face. Not hard enough to suffocate. Just to block everything out.

Well… There was no denying it to himself any longer. His feelings toward Prompto… they weren’t just fleeting fancies. No, what had once been a simple crush, a matter of lingering looks from the corner of his eye, of simple enjoyment of the young man’s company, had at some point changed entirely. Exploded into full-blown desire and an adoration that the events of the night had finally revealed. Awakening a lust that threatened to swallow all of Ignis’ reason if he weren’t careful. 

All he could do now was accept it, and try to move on. It was as simple as that.

Only, it wasn’t simple. Ignis let out a huff, dangerously close to pouting. In fact, it was a bloody damned mess. He had no right to pursue the Prince’s best friend. He had too many responsibilities to be distracted by his affections. To even  _ desire _ a relationship… out of the question. 

But the gods were obviously cruel bastards, because now Ignis had to grapple with these feelings when he saw Prompto practically every day. Whether hanging out with Noctis at the apartment, or at the Palace participating in Crownsguard training. There would no escape.

And then there was tonight. Prompto waited downstairs at this very moment. A single floor away with dinner still on the table while Ignis defiled himself.

Ignis thought of just staying in his room, staring at the ceiling as he wallowed in self-loathing all night, because  _ manners be damned. _

But, no, such a thing was not in the agenda, because Noctis’ voice sounded at his door. “Hey, Specs? You okay in there?” Under the leftover giddiness from laughing at Ignis’ expense, the Prince sounded genuinely worried. Ignis supposed he should feel flattered, but just couldn’t bring himself to achieve the emotion.

“Yes, but only if you two are quite finished with your childish little  _ display _ . I'd rather prefer to finish my meal without anymore theatrics.” He tried to bite back the venom. He really did try. Even so, Ignis couldn't keep himself from spitting the words in a huff. Still, it was an improvement from telling his Prince and all other guests to screw off. 

Noctis likely thought of him as an innocent prude, but the Prince couldn’t be further from the truth. No, stressful days of overflowing schedules and tense meetings over the whole Niflheim issue had left Ignis well-acquainted with his own body, with what he liked and how to finish the job quickly.

How many nights had he spent, grasping himself in hand to release the tension of the day? Not excessive amounts, by any means. But more than Ignis would like to confess. It was easier to just avoid sexual topics, altogether.

Having Noctis think that he was throwing a fit in his room over an idiotic sexual prank proved the better option by far. Best to just go back downstairs and try to enjoy the rest of the evening. Let the embarrassment be his secret punishment for what he had done.

Ignis sat up, looking toward the door. He should probably wash his hands, first and foremost. Give them a good, long scrub. With steel wool and bleach.

With his hands washed - thoroughly. And his composure regained... most of it, Ignis opened the door to see Noctis grinning sheepishly, stuck somewhere between amusement and concern. He kept his own expression neutral, carefully concealing the emotions swirling through him. 

“Youre… not going to kill me, are you, Specs?”

“No, I'd prefer to at least finish my dinner before committing acts of murder and treason,” Ignis responded with a cool glance.

Noctis didn’t say anything else. Just gave a sheepish laugh and grew slightly pale.

Ignis followed his Prince downstairs, trying to calm his racing heart. He could handle this. He was an adult. Not some hormonal teenager. He was… he was… gods, he was only 19 and he was a pitiful mess of shame and desires.

Placing his foot on the final step, Ignis heard Prompto’s laughter from the kitchen. Something in his heart fluttered and squeezed, making him bite his lip. He had to fight not to turn around and dart for the safety of his room. It was going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, Ignis, my sentiments exactly. What have I done? Please, give me feedback... I am so self-conscious of this one.


End file.
